Seven Pounds
by WillowSioui
Summary: For the Shepard Gang, turmoil between the gangs and the Soc/Greaser war has been getting more viscous, more dangerous, more deadly, and the chain of events that are about to unfold will change their lives forever...


Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Outsiders'. I do own the OC's and the plot.

A/N: My many, many thanks to the wonderful 'Independence Undervalued' for helping me get this on paper finally, and being the most helpful BETA that I have ever worked with. This story has taken nearly a year for me to write, and 'Independence Undervalued' has finally helped me breathe it to life.

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The sky is dark, no stars to be seen, when three boys exit the movie house. Ponyboy Curtis draws his arms around himself to ward off the cold, seeing as he had forgotten his jacket once again. Sighing because he knows full well that his oldest brother, Darry, is going to give him hell for forgetting it at home, the cold wind rushes past him and he shivers again, his teeth clattering noisily. One of the two boys walking with him laughs harshly, his stocky frame shaking as his blue eyes twinkle with barely surpressed mirth.

"Golly, Ponyboy, when are you ever going to remember your jacket?" Ponyboy narrows his grey-green eyes at his friend, and ignores the question, too intent on staying warm to fight. The third boy laughs happily, and Ponyboy can't help but crack a smile. Even though the third boy is only a year older than Ponyboy s fourteen, he is a full head taller; as the boy's happy smile sticks to his face, his light blue eyes twinkle merrily. Remembering how he'd met James at a party, courtesy of Curly, Ponyboy grins softly to himself as the James looks over at the stockier boy and shakes his head slowly in amusement.

"Curly, leave him alone. Just because he's an absolute dumbass to leave his jacket at home doesn't mean you gotta rub it in!" Ponyboy takes a swing at his friend, who ducks and lopes away, his happy laugh trailing behind him in the cold winter air. Curly laughs, too, but his laugh is rough and harsh, making Ponyboy wonder if it had to do with the way he was raised.

Scooping up a handful of the white, fluffy snow that is on the ground, Ponyboy throws it at Curly, hitting him directly in his laughing mouth; he lets out his own laugh as he watches his dark-haired friend sputter. Curly bounces forward, his arms reaching for Ponyboy, but the younger boy turns and runs for it, his track and field-trained legs pushing him forward, quickly out-striding his friend. The blond friend tackles Ponyboy from the side as he rushes past, and both of them land in the soft snow; Curly walks over, a snowball in hand, and an evil glint in his eye.

"Payback, Ponyboy. Hold him still, James"! James sits atop of Ponyboy's chest as Curly chucks the snowball at him, hitting him directly in the face, Ponyboy trashing around. As Curly begins his way down the street once more, James gets off of Ponyboy and helps him to his feet. He dusts the snow off of himself, grumbling about how cold he is going to be later. James shakes his head, his blue eyes twinkling.

"You really gotta remember yer jacket, Pony. You'll catch yer death out in the cold like this." Ponyboy throws a glare at his blonde friend, who throws his hands up in defense against an invisible attack. Sighing once more, Ponyboy begins to walk, James at his side, and he reminisces back to the party in which they met. Curly had been rather drunk, and when introducing James to Ponyboy, he had mistaken James for a girl. The three still laugh at that fact, since James is taller than both of his friends. The trio had spent a lot of time together, and their bond had grown. Jame's home life was bad, which was usual of this side of the city, but he always seemed to be smiling.

Jame's parents were always yelling and drinking, and so he opted to live with his older sister, Heather. Heather is one of Ponyboy's friends, he met her through Dallas Winston, one of the boys in his group of friends. She was a heavy drinker like her parents, but Ponyboy doubts that she even realises the fact; either way, she is always making sure James is alright. Looking at his friend, he claps him on the shoulder.

"We should probably hurry up, Heather is probably wondering where ya are." Nodding his head, James smiles softly, and Ponyboy can't help but smile. James has always looked up to his big sis, even with all of the things she does.

Just then, they notice a cherry red Plymouth Roadrunner driving slowly past them, and Ponyboy notices James go stiff as his normally dancing eyes grow cold and hard. The car drives off with a sudden burst of speed, and James doesn t relax until it s around the corner and out of sight. Looking at his friend curiously, Ponyboy shivers from the cold. James looks down at him and smiles a grim smile.  
Tigers. Ponyboy watches as his friend walks away slowly, and a sudden understanding hits him; The Tiber Street Tigers and the gang that James is in, The Shepard Gang, have been rivals for the past little while. Digging a weed out of his pocket, Ponyboy lights up and follows after his friends. He notices that Curly s blue eyes are dark and angry, and he s having a low but vicious conversation with James. The two look up as Ponyboy walks closer, and they both stop talking; the trio walk in silence as Ponyboy puffs away on his cigarette, wondering what was going on. Curly starts cussing with a muttering voice and kicks some white, powdery snow out of his way.

"Those bastards oughta rot in hell!" He spits visciously to the side, snorts like an enraged bull. Ponyboy turns his attention to James, trying to stifle a laugh and hide his smile. James and Curly look at the youngest boy oddly, and Ponyboy lets out a chuckle before looking at his dark-haired companion.

"Curly, for a second there you looked the spitting image of your brother!" All three boys are silent for a moment before Curly smiles in spite of himself, happy at what he takes to be a compliment. Tim Shepard, Curly's older brother, is one of the toughest hoods in Tulsa, and the leader of the Shepard Gang. The three boys continue their way down the street when Curly suddenly trips on something covered in the snow, falling face-first into a snowbank. James begins laughing out loud and Ponyboy pulls his friend up, brushing the snow off of him as Curly sends James a dirty look; James flippantly ignores the look and continues to laugh merrily. Ponyboy lights up a cigarette and shakes his head as the two friends begin verbally fencing. The air has gotten even colder than before, and Ponyboy begins to shiver again as he smokes his cigarette.

As he flicks his cigarette butt away and opens his mouth to get his friends' attention, the trio is bathed in the lights from a car. Curly lights up a cigarette and flips up the collar of his leather jacket, hunching his shoulders defensively. James stands at his full height, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, his blue eyes going icy once more. Ponyboy stands sideways, his knees bent slightly, giving him ample space to either run or fight, and a good stance for both. The cold air burns as Ponyboy breathes it in through his nose, and he catches the faint smell of alcohol as the car's doors open, five lean, hard guys piling out. The leader, a tall guy with brown hair slicked back, walks up with a lit cigarette hanging loosely from between his thin lips.

"What you boy's doin', walking' this late?" His voice is rough and scratchy, and is scares Ponyboy. This man has obviously known a hard life, one that had led to things Ponyboy wishes he never has to see. Curly opens his mouth to speak, but James shakes his head slowly before turning his cold gaze to the tall man.

"You're outta yer territory, Beckett." The man with the brown hair narrows his eyes, which Ponyboy just notices are green. Taking a step closer, the man named Beckett pushes the tip of his finger into James' chest.

"This ain't Shepard territory no more, boy." The last word is spit out like a curse, saliva flying and landing on James' face; the younger boy swin gs at Beckett, his fist connecting with the man's nose; a loud crack is heard. Those two drop to the ground, rolling and swinging at each other; Curly takes on two of the other guys by himself as Pony turns to see the last two closing in. He swings his fist and drops the first guy, only to have a beer bottle smashed over his head. He drops like a log, his vision blurred and obscured by a thick, warm liquid. He spots Curly thrashing around on the ground as the tar is being beat out of him, snow flying from his flailing feet.

Ponyboy shakily sits up, noticing Curly laying on the ground groaning, and a bloody James is thrown aside, where he grabs onto a chain link fence. Beckett stands slowly, grunting, and so does James. Cold blue eyes blazing with anger, James spins and takes a step towards Beckett when the tall man draws something out of his jacket, and a loud ringing noise flies through the air, James crumpling to the ground, still and unmoving.

The Tigers all move back to their car, calling for Beckett; the man takes the time to spit on the fallen teenager before jumping into the Roadrunner and speeding off, leaving a smoke cloud in his wake. Ponyboy sits and watches numbly as Curly struggles to roll onto his stomach; once he succeeds, he crawls over to his fallen friend.

Curly grabs the lapels of James' jacket and half-pulls him up, an unnameable noise coming forth from his throat; the sight Ponyboy witnesses causes his stomach to turn in revulsion, and he retches to his right, trying to ignore the thick red that is creeping slowly closer to him through all the white snow. The thick red that is matting James' blond hair, the red spattered all across the fence behind them. Looking up at the sky, Ponyboy feels his head become light as the sirens call through the clear winter night, mixing with the wails of grief coming from Curly at the loss of his closest friend.

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Thanks so much for reading this! Reviews are appreciated, especially constructive ones~!

~W


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